Thursday 27 June 2013

A bad shot of a bad shot


I normally don't like putting up self-portraits, but since in this one I am almost unrecognisable to anyone who has never met me, I think it is probably ok.

The trouble began when I had to supply four identical photos of myself for a rather important official document, and I only had two available. The subsequent scanning, editing and printing on a non-professional machine produced this composite of a cinematic Wild West villain by Andy Warhol, and Marge Simpson. The blurring was caused by snapping the results on my phone camera. I promise you that I have not had a blue-rinse since you last heard from me, neither have I grown a dark moustache.

Why go to all this trouble when I could just duck into the same booth at which I took the original pictures? Because one of the two that exist has been signed on the back by a solicitor friend to guarantee that it really is me.

Why not go back to the solicitor friend for him to sign one of the new set? Because he is a very busy man who can only be met at weekends and I am running out of time before the authorities begin the process of prosecuting me for the illegal possession of firearms.

Every five years, I realise how few upstanding members of society I actually know - precisely one, as it turns out. Everyone else - in the eyes of the police - are on the fringes of the criminal underworld, and not fit to verify my existence. Actually, thinking about it, they have a point.

My solicitor friend does not drink, does not smoke, does not take any drugs at all and is gay. He is - without doubt - the most immaculate person I have ever met in my life, and by that I mean sartorially immaculate. What he does in private is his concern, but since he talks faster and longer than anyone else I have ever met in my life (my god he can talk) it becomes mine as well - every five years.

He is just under 50 years old and looks about 30. His black hair is never out of place, there isn't a line on his face and he looks as though he shaves twice a day. His clothes are always spotlessly clean and not a speck of dirt is ever to be seen under his fingernails. In short, he is the antithesis of me, even in the un-doctored and recognisable photo.

Getting his signature on the back of a photo involves meeting him for a prolonged weekend breakfast, then catching up on the news for the last five years in minute detail. Towards the end of this chat I am familiar with all sorts of legal niceties involving specific cases, even though my knowledge of legal matters is about as comprehensive as Bart Simpson's. I am not saying that I don't enjoy our meetings - I really do - but they are bloody time-consuming because he does not live too close to town and does not frequent pubs, we only have the chance to catch up every five years.

I am going to give this photo-editing thing one last shot (no frightening pun intended) then probably give him another call after I have gone to another photo-booth. When we last parted, he said we should meet up more often, but I don't think he knew how soon.

26 comments:

  1. My previous partner was like your friend tom
    I heard recently that he had had that much Botox he now looks like joan rivers
    I am like you.... Faces like unmade beds

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    1. My friend would - I think - never resort to botox, and I don't think he would ever need to, if anyone ever does. I think he has a picture in the attic which is beginning to look like me.

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  2. If I had hair, I might go for that blue. Nah; only kiddin'.

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    1. WILMA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

      I like your book cover, btw...

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  4. Would have recognized you at once, Tom - no way to sit on an Russian airport corridor incognito. (But I have an almost eidetic memory, so don't despair). Lawyers and barristers are trained to look like your acquaintance - I'd never believed that I would quarrel with the apple of my eye, my 'Sun', about hair - but we did. "Too immaculate!" I cried " what have you done?" "Brylcreme" replied the coming barrister. Oh.

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    1. As the Imperial War Museum starts its exhibition on spys and deciphering only in August, I have to work it out on my own - might be an advertisement for Hairgel, saying something like "A little dab will do you up"? Or is it Chinese? Or have you been to Glastonbury?

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    2. Amazing - you guessed right. It was the TV musical slogan for Brylcreem in the 1950s-60s.

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  5. Very becoming for a man of your age !

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  6. I think that the blue hair is a nice homage to Mrs. Slocombe.

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    1. I would rather not see your pussy

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    2. Tom not being much of a TV watcher, I was wondering if I would have to explain to him who Mrs. Slocombe is - the one with the ... eh .... cat.

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    3. Even if I had not ever heard of her, I have been reminded of Mrs Slocombe's cat so many times by John, that I feel I have virtually stroked it.

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  7. I will never understand how the farmer got either a passport or a gun licence when I see the photographs - he looks like an escaped convict. (although when I think about it, I am not sure what one of those looks like).

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    1. You will know what one looks like when they refuse my licence and try to re-arrest me. here is the photo in advance.

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  8. Here, we need but two photos, which one can get cheaply enough at a drugstore and have a copy made. Then, photos in had, $35, and completed form, one goes to the police station and presents everything. That's just if one wants to carry concealed. Otherwise, one just straps a holster on and calls it good.

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    1. We aren't allowed to carry any hand-gun, let alone a concealed one, Megan. I may get shot even for owning a few shotguns. I did once (briefly) walk around with a .38 pistol in a shoulder holster, but that was when it was legal to do so here.

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  9. You certainly do not look like yourself, and that is not a good thing, even for a gun permit. That man would own a blunderbuss.

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    1. I have actually fired a blunderbuss, Joanne, but I was not driving a Royal Mail coach at the time. Anyway, how do you know what I look like?

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    2. You posted a link to yourself once, in your sartorial best, as seen on some street in Britain.

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  10. Ooooo, nice hairdo duckie!x

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    1. You're asking for the apple to be shot off your head. As already admitted, I'm a bad shot...

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